365 Days

                             

                           

We did it. June 4th marked 365 days after we said goodbye to Kevin. It was a bittersweet day with the memories still so fresh and raw and yet it felt really good to make it to that milestone. I got ready to go to work that morning with 3 days of school left in the school year all the while my brain repeating, "I did it. I did it. I did it." I survived a year without him. We got through every holiday, every birthday, every new first, every event, all of the lasts, I paid the bills each month, figured out social security, moved things to my name, kept the house, fixed the cars, made difficulty financial decisions, did the taxes, and all while working full time as an elementary teacher, raising four kids and grieving. I did it. I did it. And the beautiful truth is, I did not do it alone. Not in the least bit alone. We were all held up by love. Love from heaven above and amazing people. Everybody helped us in their own way and together you all kept us afloat. You hugged us when we needed it, you provided meals for us, you took care of us, sent a note, raked our lawn, brought flowers, you gave us monetary gifts and gifts of service. You listened as we cried, you embraced my kids and invited them over, drove them where they needed to be, fed them and gave them grace. You sent flowers, came and did my taxes with me, cleaned out my pantry, planned and hosted Greta's grad/birthday party . You cried with us, told us stories, shared in our grief and lifted us up in prayer and positive thoughts. Thank you for that. Thank you for giving us grace and the space to grieve. Thank you for understanding when we didn't show up to things in ways we have in the past. 

May 17th marked the day that I drove Kevin to the ER in Northfield. From May 17 until June 4th of this year was pretty brutal, thinking about and processing each day of that rollercoaster until the last few days when he progressively slipped away from us. It's still hard to believe that he is gone. We really didn't think he would die. He was such a fighter and never gave up hope. Yet, he was so tired and so worn down from fighting a failing body.

We are now processing it from a distance, wondering how we got through it all. How did we find the space to celebrate Greta's graduation and mourn the loss of Kevin and celebrate his life all at the same time? How were we able to put together that beautiful funeral and make all of those big decisions so quickly. The answer is, I have no idea. I don't know how we did it. I do know that it was by the grace of God and our family, friends and community. We felt so loved and lifted up. Our house was abuzz that whole week. Full of love and people, laughter and tears. So many stories and so many people there to help us plan, clean, find pictures, feed us, get a choir together, plan and execute Greta's grad party, throw a brunch at our house between church and Greta's graduation, and then head to Kevin's visitation and story telling. Yet, when I think of each of those events in those two weeks, I have only wonderful memories of all of it. So full of love. I am so thankful for everyone that came and told stories about Kevin at his visitation. That meant the world to us. And we wouldn't change a thing about his funeral. We are so proud of how we honored him. So we are so grateful to everyone that played a part in that process. It was a big collaboration and I'm thankful to the church staff, my family, Kevin's family, and everyone that brought music, read, planned and attended the funeral whether it was in person or online. His funeral does not weigh heavy on my heart, like you would image a funeral would. It is a comfort to think about it and to rewatch it. What a gift. 

So, June 4th of this year, we invited over family and a few close friends to share a meal and tell some stories about Kevin. It was the perfect way to mark the day. It was a sunny and beautiful evening. We had a potluck and ate and visited and then gathered in our living room to share in our grief. I loved it because it felt so good to hear that other people miss him too. It feels good to be reminded of some of the best parts of Kevin from someone else's perspective. We had a lot of laughs and we also needed the tissues I had on hand. 

Since that day, I have felt lighter. Knowing that we can do this. I journeyed through this last year with a lot of fear. Fear of the unknown. Would I miss something important? How would we do Christmas without him? What happens if one of the cars dies? Can I keep the house? All of it. But I found the right people to ask, many reached out and offered help just when we needed it and we made it through. We survived. I feel proud....of all of us. We talk very openly about Kevin. We keep his jokes running, we say we are sad when were sad, we talk about things we miss about him and talk about how hard it was when he was so sick and not the same person he had once been. In all honesty, I am relieved to not have to worry about him anymore. Those last couple of years were really painful for him physically, emotionally and mentally. It was painful for us to witness and be a part of and it seemed to be endless. I imagine him pain free and worry free and that feels really peaceful to me. He does send us little signs that he is right here with us and we feel how close he is. 

We are stepping forward, one day at a time. I am exploring new career paths - as much as I love my job, it may be time for something new. But its a slow process and I'm giving myself grace to take things as slowly as I need to. The kids are all taking their next steps too. It is a joy to watch them grow closer and rely on each other as they get older with Solvei and Greta moving into adulthood. Solvei graduated from Luther this spring and is ready to begin new adventures. Greta is excited to continue exploring her interests in her second year at Concordia and the boys start high school in the fall. Teenage boys are a new lens for me. They definitely keep me on my toes. All four of them are taller than me now and are protective of their mom. We all take care of each other in a way that is new. It is sweet and tender and fierce. There are still so many firsts ahead and we will always live with this grief. We will always feel sad when he isn't physically present at events, milestones or just ordinary days where we want him to be. I will still feel lonely when I need him to help with a tricky parenting decision or just on a Friday night when I'm home alone and wish we were deciding what series to binge next or head down to the brewery to listen to some live music. There are difficult days ahead. We know that. Yet, we have more tools with which to meet those challenges. We know how many people are ready and waiting to swoop in and carry us or just be with us in this grief. 

We are eternally grateful for our family. We spend a lot of time with family. They all miss him too. They are all used to him being there for celebrations. They miss his sense of humor and his big wrap around hugs. They miss his friendship and his listening ear. We are thankful to grieve together with them and feel supported by them.

We weren't ready for him to leave, but he left us well equipped. We are loved, we are surrounded by a community that is ready to help us, and we are strong. We are so strong and resilient. So, we keep putting one foot in front of the other and put forth our greatest effort at living abundantly. He would expect nothing less. #vivomás.

Moving out of her freshman dorm.

A visit to the cemetery

Traditional last day of school picnic and second annual Kevin Cleve Whiffle Ball Game

He was a wonderful friend and partner and a really fun dad.

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